


The Best Of Him

by misscersei



Category: A Song of Ice and Fire & Related Fandoms, A Song of Ice and Fire - George R. R. Martin, Game of Thrones (TV)
Genre: Alternate Universe - Modern Setting, F/M
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2019-07-22
Updated: 2019-08-09
Packaged: 2020-07-10 11:29:21
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 6
Words: 21,637
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/19905004
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/misscersei/pseuds/misscersei
Summary: Sometimes it only takes one person to bring out the best of you.





	1. Chapter 1

She watched intently as the windshield wipers rocked vehemently back and forth. Back and forth. People told her that it was always cold and rainy in England, but she rolled her eyes. She was from New York, after all. she was raised in New York. It was cold and rainy there too-she could handle it, she told them. Or that’s what she had thought before she landed in this ocean of a country. She glanced quickly at the clock on her dashboard, noticing that she was already five minutes late.  
“Great,” she mumbled, tapping her fingers impatiently on the top of the steering wheel. “I’m going to get fired before I even start my first day on the job.” She had been lucky to have had found a job in the first place. She had been in London for the past three months, searching, waiting for anything- any position to open up when finally, luck tipped its hat to her. She was to be an assistant to a local, esteemed novel author. What was his name again? Perfect, she had forgotten her boss’ name before she had even started. She had never heard of him before, but apparently he was equivalent of Nicholas Sparks. He wrote stories of women’s fantasies- of men that were too good to be true.  
“I wonder if he’s married?” she thought to herself- the windshield wipers still droning in the background; the rain pitter-pattering steadily against the windows. “Oh, shut up, Cersei. He’s probably gay,” she rationalized, flicking her turn signal on as turned into the lot of her new office building. After three months, she had finally gotten used to driving on the right side of the road without any hesitation. Those first few months, however, well, let’s just say she received more honks and slander pointed towards her then she had in her entire life. And that’s saying a lot. She did live in New York her whole life, after all.  
Wrestling open the umbrella against the blustering wind, she shut her car door and skirted her way across the blacktop, only sighing in relief when she reached the overhang. Walking into the building, she felt the warm air rush to greet her and experienced a sudden rush of comfort. But that was short lived as she walked down the stark, narrow hallway. The walls were plain- an intimidating white. The air seemed to get colder with each step she took and she suddenly wondered if it was the climate, or just her paranoia.  
She gripped her jacket a bit tighter against her body and approached the door that read. “Ace Books,” the name, “Oberyn Martell,” underneath. Martell! That was it! Oberyn Martell. It’s cool name. She thought. Opening the door, she was met with more blank, white walls and a large desk in the middle of the room, surrounded by many tiny cubicles. A woman sat at the desk, her face concentrated on her computer, her fingers pecking away at the keyboard. She hadn’t even heard her come in.  
“Hi,” Cersei approached the desk slowly, “my name is-,”  
“Oh! You must be Miss Lannister!” The woman checked her watch and Cersei mentally prepared herself to be reprimanded for being late. “I was so worried you weren’t going to show! We haven’t had the best of luck with Mr. Martell’s assistants lately, but I’ll fill you in on that later,” This woman was talking so fast, Cersei thought she was going to run out of breath any moment.  
“Oh, I’m being entirely rude! My name is Catelyn,” she extended her hand and Cerseitook it gratefully. Maybe she could be Cersei’s first friend she made in England.  
“I’m sorry I’m late,” she started, feeling the need to explain being tardy on the first day of work. “There was a lot of traffic and the rain,” she paused, collecting her thoughts, “I’m still getting used to being over here quite honestly.” Catelyn nodded sympathetically and reached out to place a comforting hand on her arm.  
“Ah, yes, you’re American ,” No I’m british, but I never actually lived in this country, suddenly feeling a bit nostalgic about New york and missing his parents and only brother Jaime, who’s married to Lyanna now and staying in Newyork with her parents, she was lost in her thoughts for a moment. “From what part may I ask?”  
“New York,” Catelyn’s eyes glistened and a smile appeared on her face.  
“Oh, I’ve always wanted to go there! It’s seems like such a fascinating place!” Cersei smiled a crooked smile- yes, interesting to say the least.  
“Let me introduce you to everyone,” she gestured at the surrounding cubicles and Cersei mentally prepared herself to remember as many names as she could.  
“Everyone!” Catelyn shouted, and Cersei jumped back, surprised by her booming voice. Heads began to shoot up from their little boxes and Cersei had to smile. It looked like a scene from the whack-a-mole arcade game. “Everyone this is Cersei Lannister, Mr. Martell’s new assistant,” Smiles were thrown in her direction and she smiled shyly and gave a little wave. She hated attention. “Cersei, this is everyone!” she said and smiled back at her.  
“A lovely looking bunch,” Cersei offered, and before she could mutter another word, a voice interrupted her.  
“Catelyn!” the voice boomed, and Cersei watched as every head snapped quickly back down into there cubicles. “Catelyn! Get Michael back on the phone as soon as possible and make sure he has time to speak. Also, read through these files, find the errors and send the revised copies to corporate; they’re expecting them by this afternoon,” The man commanded, tossing a stack of papers onto Catelyn’s desk. “Also, call that little place on the corner and order that salad I like; I won’t be able to go out for lunch,” and with that, the door shut and the silence in the room was suddenly deafening.  
“I’m guessing that’s my boss?” Cersei offered, and Catelyn smiled at her, almost sympathetically.  
“Him at his finest,” Cersei watched as she made her way over to her desk and started leafing through the files he placed on her desk. “Yes, there’s something you should know about Mr. Martell,” Cersei braced herself for what she was about to say; he suddenly didn’t seem like the dream man she had envisioned him to be.  
“He, ah, let me see if I can put this in the nicest way,” she stopped shuffling the papers, “He’s not really a people person,” she paused, collecting her words again, “He doesn’t like people,” she put it bluntly and Cersei bit her bottom lip. This job didn’t seem so appealing anymore. Catelyn sensed Cersei’s uneasiness and reached out to take her hand. 

“You’ll be fine, dear,” she comforted, and gave her hand a reassuring squeeze. Cersei took a quick glance at his door and then back at Catelyn. “I think it’s about time you meet your boss,” Cersei didn’t want to; in fact, that’s the last thing she wanted to do. She needed to buy herself some time.  
“Yeah, I’m a- I’m just going to use the restroom first. Three cups of coffee this morning,” she reasoned before following Catelyn’s directions to the girl’s room. She threw her purse down on the counter and rested her elbow’s against the edge, her head resting in her hands.  
“God, Cersei, what have you gotten yourself into?” she asked, staring at her reflection through the mirror. She tucked a stray piece of hair back into her bun, untied her jacket and brought her hands down to straighten out her black pencil skirt. She could always leave now. She could run to her car, drive home and never look back. She would never have to deal with Oberyn Martell. But something was pulling her to stay, maybe it was Catelyn, maybe it was because she knew she had no other option of a job. Whatever it was, it worked. She picked up her purse off the counter and made her way back to the office after checking her appearance one last time. Slipping her jacket off, she hung it on one of the coat racks and made her way back over to Catelyn.  
“Should I , just go in?” She smiled and nodded, motioning to his door.  
“Cersei, you’re going to be fine. He’ll come across a little harsh at first, but you’ll learn how to deal with him in time,” Cersei flashed back an unsure smile. “I don’t know how long I’ll last,” she thought to herself before turning to face his door. She raised a hand to knock on his door, and after a long moment, her hand finally came into contact with the wood.  
“What?” she heard him question from inside the room and she opened the door slowly. She stepped inside and noticed that he hadn’t looked up from his monitor. His fingers typed away on his keyboard, glasses perched on the edge of his nose as he stared through them, his jaw clenched, concentrating on what he was creating on the monitor. When he realized that there was a presence in the room he glanced up, then back down at his work, but then quickly back up to the doorway.  
“Who are you?” he asked, his brows furrowing, his eyes raking up and down her form. Suddenly, she wished she were anywhere but there. She cleared her throat to speak and wiped her palms against her skirt.  
“My, my name is Cersei Lannister,” she started, and she could tell that nothing was clicking in his head, so she continued, “I’m your new assistant,” she took a step closer to the desk and extended her hand. He looked at it as if it were lethal, but then took it lightly in his own hand.  
“Right,” he offered, before returning his attention back to his work. His fingers started typing away on the keyboard again, and suddenly Cersei felt extremely uncomfortable. After a moment, he noticed that she hadn’t moved and glanced back up at her.  
“Is there anything else you need?” he asked, stalling his typing for a minute, making eye contact with her.  
“Oh, uhm, no,” she stuttered, turning to leave and right as she reached the door, his voice stopped her. 

I see, you’re the one came from New York “You’re American?” he asked, as if he had just come to the realization. She felt her cheeks redden as she turned around to face him.  
Uhm I lived there but “No,” she muttered and watched as he leaned back in his chair. He stared at her then, only for a few seconds, but it felt like a lifetime. His eyes scaled her body once again and she suddenly felt self-conscious. He took in her whole form. He watched as she crossed her arms across her chest. Probably a reflex.  
Small was his first thought of her. Pretty was his second.  
“Is that going to be a problem?” she asked abruptly and his eyes scaled their way back to her eyes. He had to remember what she was asking about and then he shook his head.  
“No, no. I was just wondering,” she nodded curtly again. She turned to leave again, but his voice stopped her once more.  
“Wait,” he called and she revved around to face him again. “Fix me a cup of tea,” he ordered and then turned his attention back to his work once more, leaving her completely forgotten at the door. She slipped through the threshold quickly and Catelyn looked up as she heard the door shut.  
“Well? How’d it go? Do you want to quit yet?” Cersei huffed a bit and shook her head.  
“He wants tea,” she told Catelyn. She pointed to the kitchen and Cersei made her way there. She had never made proper tea and wondered if it was different from the tea she got at Starbucks back in New York. She scanned the cabinets and found the teabags in the box. God, there were so many flavors. What did he want? She glanced back out of the kitchen to ask Catelyn, but saw that she was on the phone. She didn’t want to interrupt her and she was afraid that if she waited, it would be too long for Mr. Martell. She grabbed the herbal tea and brewed it, hoping that he enjoyed this flavor. She put the bag into the cup of hot water and watched as the clear liquid turned into a steaming cup of brown liquid. Squeezing the excess liquid out of the bag, she took the steaming cup out of the kitchen and headed back towards his office. She knocked once on the door, letting him know she was coming in. He didn’t look up as she entered and she made her way over to her desk, placing it next to him.  
“There you are,” she told him, and started to back out of the room before she heard a loud, coughing noise. That couldn’t be good.  
“What the hell is this?” she heard him boom. Oh God. She wanted to cry.  
“It’s tea, Mr. Martell,” she told him, gripping the doorknob, wishing he would just let her leave.  
“That is no bloody tea. That’s, I don’t even know what that is,” she went over to the desk and took the cup from him.  
“I’m sorry, I can try again,”  
“No, I don’t want you to try again. Are you trying to kill me?” she felt like her eyes were welling with tears.  
“No, sir,” she watched as he wiped his mouth with a napkin and stared back at her.  
You’re from New York right ? I shouldn’t have held such high expectations of you,” she felt a sudden surge of pride for New york where she lived her whole life rise up and before she could retort he continued his rant.  
“Do you know how to do anything right? Are you capable of making copies? Because, you know, you have to do a lot of that. Do you know how to take notes because you’ll have to do that at meetings. Did they teach you how to pick up a phone and make appointments? Did they teach you how to do anything in the God forsaken country of yours?” Her blood was boiling. No one talked to her like that. Especially someone she had just met. She may appear tiny on the outside, but she had a fiery personality on the inside. What Oberyn Martell didn’t know about her was that she wasn’t afraid to fire back.  
“Excuse me!” she exclaimed marching over and standing in front of his desk, arms akimbo. “No one, and I mean no one talks to me like that! How dare you speak to someone like that after they did was try to make you a decent cup of tea!” He leaned back in his chair, a small smirk appearing on his lips. “Do you think you can just bark orders at people and then diminish them when they do something wrong?! You’re human too! And I haven’t known you for very long, but I can already see that you’re not perfect. I’m sorry I ruined your tea, but there’s plenty more tea in the world! I’m sorry, Sir Martell, I will go make you more tea!” she turned and stormed out of the room, slamming the door behind her.  
Oberyn Martell bit his tongue and leaned up to rest an elbow on the edge of his desk. He liked this girl. He wasn’t about to tell her that, but he did. She was feisty. Something he wasn’t used to. Yeah, he thought to himself, he was going to keep her around. And besides, she was the best-looking assistant he had had in the past few years.  
“Men make me crazy,” she muttered, storming past Catelyn’s desk once more and into the kitchen. Catelyn laughed and stood up to follow a muttering Cersei. She leaned against the doorway and watched as Cersei brewed another cup of tea.  
“Oberyn Pain in my ass Martell,” Catelyn’s laughter filled the air as Cersei pushed past her once more with a steaming cup of tea. She watched as she busted open his office door and made her way right in.  
Yeah, she was good for him. She was just what he needed.


	2. The Death Of Me

Cersei wrapped her plaid scarf tighter around her neck as she scanned the aisle of a little bookstore down the road from the office. She was on her lunch break and didn’t feel like being holed up in the office any more than she had to be. She brushed her hand across the wooden shelves, picking up specks of dust on her fingertips. Gripping her coffee tighter in her free hand, she welcomed the heat, willing it to spread from her hand down through her body.  
“Looking for anything special?” Cersei glanced up to see a sales associate roaming the aisles.  
“Oh, no, thank you. I’m just browsing,” the woman politely nodded and continued on her way. The truth was, Cersei was actually looking for something special, she just didn’t care to admit it.  
“Martell,” she murmured under her breath, running her finger down the binding of the books she passed. “Martell,” she repeated getting to the “M” authors. Squatting down, she looked at the bottom shelf, scanning the names, waiting for his to jump out at her.  
“Ah,” she exclaimed, her eyes finally resting on his name, before pulling the book out from its position on the shelf. “Oberyn P. Martell,” she mumbled, casting her eyes across the cover of the book. She flipped to the back and saw his picture spread across the cover.  
“You’ll be the death of me,” she muttered to the portrait staring back at her. She had worked for this man for a week, and he was already getting under her skin. She had threatened to quit at least ten times, probably more. She lost count after the third day. She found herself an open table and sat down.  
“I hate myself for this,” she groaned, opening to the first page, seeing the reviews, “I’m spending my hour off from this man reading his book. I must be crazy,” she scanned over the first page of reviews and took a sharp intake of breath as she read through them all.  
“One of the best portrayals of love and tragedy; a timeless classic that is sure to touch readers of all ages”  
Another read, “A timeless tale of finding one’s true love, letting them go, and finding out what is really important in life. Martell portrays the characters so well, the reader is drawn in, imagining that the story is being played out in front of them”.  
Cersei scanned down to the last one on the page and had to smirk at the last one.  
“If there were more sensitive, honest men in the world like Oberyn Martell, the world would be a better, happier place”. 

This woman had obviously never met Mr. Martell, Cersei mused, flipping to the start of the first chapter. He was honest, she was right about that. Sensitive? He was about as sensitive as the weather outside was hot. She knew she didn’t have time to sit there and read through every page, her lunch break would be ending at the top of the hour, so she flipped to the back, allowing the edges of the page to brush her fingertips lightly.  
She didn’t usually like to read the endings of books before starting them, but this time, she allowed herself the indulgence of skimming the last few pages of the imaginary world he had created.  
She began reading and understood quickly the premise of the situation. She hung onto every word as two former lovers were brought back together through misfortune. She could feel the tension being evoked through the man and woman as they came face to face for the first time in years. She allowed herself to be sucked into the emotion of the moment as the man confessed that he had never fallen out of love with her. She felt her throat tighten when the woman rejected him at first, but let out a sigh of relief when he told her he wasn’t going to let her go again. She felt a tear brim to the corner of her eye and brought a hand up to clutch her throat, willing a sob to refrain itself as he asked her to be with him forever, begging her to give him another chance. She let the tear fall from her eyes when she said yes, life without him had been too painful and she didn’t want to spend her life wondering what could have been.  
She closed the book as the two lovers kissed, pulling herself away from the imaginary world she had just lived in for the past ten minutes. Glancing at her watch, she realized that it was time to head back to work, a thought that brought her peaceful, happy demeanor to a testy, annoyed one. She reluctantly placed the book back in its home on the shelf and turned to walk out the door when a woman’s voice stopped her.  
“What did you think of the book?” Cersei whipped back around and saw that it was the sales associate who she had encountered before. She offered her a small smile.  
“It was lovely,” she nodded, wrapping her scarf around her neck, already feeling the cold London air travel up her body as she stood next to the door.  
“His books are always so well written. They always bring tears to my eyes,” she chuckled, resting a hand on her heart before glancing back at Cersei . When Cersei only offered her a smile, the woman continued.  
“He seems like he would be such a charmer in real life,” the woman presumed, and Cersei fought back rolling her eyes, “I wish all men had a soft spot like that; there’s nothing to be ashamed of,” she reasoned and Cersei nodded in agreement, not wanting to get too into it.  
“Well, I have to get back to work,” Cersei told her, opening the door, coming in contact with the frigid air.  
“Stay warm, dear,” the woman called, as the door shut, cutting off contact with the two women.  
“Charmer my ass,” Cersei muttered, unlocking her car and settling herself in the driver's seat. “More like a pain in the ass in real life,” she started her car and peeled out of the parking lot.  
She couldn’t help but let her mind wander back to the words that were written in his story. How could such a tough, self-centered, egotistical man write such beautiful words? Where did they come from? It was then she 

realized that maybe Oberyn Martell really did have a softer side. Maybe he portrayed his emotions through writing instead of speaking? She didn’t know. All she knew was that this man was frustrating and confusing, more so than any other man she had ever met; and yet, she kept driving back to him day after day. She was more determined then ever to figure out the mystery that was Oberyn Martell.  
Oberyn typed away at his keyboard, wishing the time would tick by faster. He loved Fridays, but he also hated them. On one hand, it was finally the weekend; on the other hand, Fridays went by so unbearably slow. He picked up a piece of lettuce with his fork before shoving it into his mouth.  
“Ick,” he thought before glancing down at his salad. That tasted rotten. “Oh,” he muttered out loud, his lovely assistant had forgotten to add the dressing.  
“Oh not surprised” he mumbled and right when he was about to call her over the intercom, she waltzed through his door.  
“Ah, just the person I was looking for. Where were you?” she glanced up at him from the stack of papers she was carrying and set them down on his desk.  
“I was on my lunch break, are you going to tell me that I can’t eat lunch now, too?” she asked, and when he didn’t answer, she turned to leave.  
“I just have one question,” she suddenly stopped and turned around, giving him a sarcastic smile.  
“Yes?” she asked impatiently, making her way back to his desk, “What?” She watched as Oberyn forked through his salad mixing it back and forth; side to side.  
“Do you eat salads in New york?” She shot him a look and placed her hands on her hips. She was obviously confused with his question, but decided to indulge him.  
“Do you drink tea in London?” He smirked sarcastically, continuing his search with his fork through his salad.  
“Funny,” he said, never lifting his eyes from the green lettuce, “You see, we here like to eat our salads with some dressing on it,” Cersei ’s eyes traveled from his eyes, to his salad- his dry, plain salad, and back to his eyes again. She could have sworn she put the dressing on his salad before she left for her lunch break. Shit, she thought, she probably threw the dressing away with the bag his salad came in.  
She grabbed his salad container and pushed her way through the office to the kitchen. Catelyn was sitting at the table and watched as Cersei entered with a huff, muttering to herself.  
“Please tell me we have dressing in here,” Cersei begged, opening the refrigerator and peering inside. Catelyn tried to hold back her laughter as she watched Cersei rake through the shelves.  
“I’m sure we have some on the door,” Cersei’s eyes shot to the door, and she let out a sigh of relief when she saw three full bottles of salad dressings sitting there. She pulled them out and set them on the counter. 

“Does he like any of these?” Catelyn glanced up at the counter and offered her a little shrug. She tossed her sandwich container in the waste bin, and came to stand next to Cersei .  
“I don’t know, he usually just eats the dressing that comes with the salad. Why didn’t you just use that one?” She asked and Cersei shot her a look.  
“I thought I put it on before I left for my break, but I guess I threw it out with the bag,” Catelyn bit her lip as she looked up at Cersei . “He’s just going to have to deal with one of these,” Cersei huffed, grabbing the bottles and his salad and heading back towards Oberyn’s office.  
“Pick your poison,” she told him, setting each bottle down in front of him. Oberyn glanced up at her and shook his head.  
“I don’t like any of those. In fact, I’m not even hungry anymore,” she rolled her eyes and bit her lip, refraining herself from saying something she might regret.  
“Come on, you’re being ridiculous. It’s just dressing. Yesterday we argued about paper clips! The day before about scissors! What are we going to argue about on Monday?!” Oberyn stalled his typing and focused his full attention on her.  
“This wouldn’t have been a big deal if you would have remembered to put it on in the first place,” Cersei huffed, throwing her arms up in the air.  
“Okay! You’re right! I screwed up! I suck,” Oberyn smirked and nodded his head, resuming his work on the monitor in front of him.  
“You and I are on the same page for once,” he said, pushing the salad away from him. She bit her lip, taking the salad from his desk and marching back to the kitchen. She dumped the lettuce in the waste bin and put the dressings back in the refrigerator. She leaned her head against the refrigerator door and sighed. These were the days she just wanted to crawl under a rock and to will herself to forget Oberyn Martell’s existence.  
“I’m guessing he didn’t want anything else,” Catelyn said from the door and Cersei offered her a small chuckle.  
“What made you think that?” Cersei asked, turning to face her friend. She offered her a smile and Catelyn walked over to rub her arm.  
“I told you this job wasn’t going to be easy. He may have the body of a grown up, but he has the attitude of a four year old,” Cersei laughed at this and ran a hand through her hair. “I’m actually surprised he’s kept you this long, to be honest,” Cersei ’s eyes widened and Catelyn gave her arm a reassuring squeeze.  
“Nothing personal, dear. Mr. Martell is just very picky about his assistants. I would have thought if he had an assistant that talks back to him like you do, they would have been out the door on the first day. But for some reason, he keeps you around,” Cersei shrugged and glanced at his office door.  
“Maybe we’re both just crazy,” Catelyn laughed and pulled Cersei into a hug. 

“Well, you both don’t take crap from anyone, that’s for sure,” Cersei laughed and pulled away from her.  
“I’m not surprised his assistants didn’t last long. They probably had to enter into a psychiatric ward after this job,” Catelyn giggled and watched as Cersei headed back towards his office door. There was something special about the two of them; she just had to figure out what it was.  
Cersei sat next in Mr. Martell’s office, watching him over the top of her laptop. They hadn’t spoken since the dressing incident earlier, and Cersei felt like she could cut the tension with a knife. They both typed away on their respective keyboards, focusing on the sights in front of them. Cersei was e-mailing one of his publishers, telling them that he would have a new book out in the coming months. She glanced up at him again and bit her lip. She wanted to say something, but she didn’t want to distract him from his work, but then again, when had that ever stopped her?  
“I went to the bookstore over my break today,” he didn’t look at her, his eyes remained on his work, but he responded.  
“Is this story time now? Oh good, I can’t wait to hear all about it,” she shook her head, but continued on anyway.  
“I found one of your books,” Oberyn’s demeanor perked up, his fingers stalling just for a quick second before he continued.  
“Well, I am an author, that’s where you would find my work,” she didn’t allow his comments to get to her. But he really could be an asshole, she thought.  
“I read a little bit of one of them,” he glanced over at her quickly, but then turned his attention right back to his work. “I thought it was really beautiful, the way you wrote,” she finished and she swore she saw a faint smile on his lips, but it was probably just a reflex.  
“I wasn’t named one of Britain’s best authors for nothing,” Cersei bit her lip, and continued typing on her keyboard.  
“I guess I just didn’t understand how someone could be so miserable in real life and write such beautiful words in their stories,” she watched as his shoulders tensed slightly and he shook his head quickly.  
“I’m not miserable,” he started, “and it’s none of your business,” Cersei recoiled at his words and returned back to the monitor. Maybe what she had just said was uncalled for. Maybe she had crossed the line just a bit. The room was silent for a few moments, an icy feel coming over them.  
“Mr. Martell,” she voiced, before she had even realized she’d spoken. He didn’t answer right away, but when she hesitated, he glanced over at her.  
“What?” he asked, obviously still annoyed with her previous comment. She hesitated for a few more seconds and stalled her writing. 

“Your writing took me to a whole other world. I lost myself in the story,” she paused, trying to find the right words, “and I don’t think you’re miserable, I think you’re tough. And there’s nothing wrong with that. I just thought you should know,” she added shyly, before returning to her e-mail.  
He watched as she returned to her typing, her fingers pecking quietly on the keyboard the only noise in the room. She really is an innocent little thing, isn’t she? He thought to himself as he turned to his own monitor.  
“Thank you,” he mumbled under his breath and Cersei glanced up to find him staring back at his work. She didn’t think the words were meant to be heard by her. It was probably just something he felt he needed to say, so she just continued to type, pretending she didn’t hear them.  
Things certainly weren’t all happy and jolly with the two of them, but as Cersei watched a small smile soften his face, she felt hopeful that they were heading in the right direction. Maybe there really was a sensitive guy underneath his harsh demeanor.  
“Oh, Cersei ,” she glanced up at him and saw him smirking at her, “maybe instead of picking up one of my books on your break, you could have done something productive like brought me salad dressing,” she blushed slightly and bit her lip, returning her gaze to her work.  
She muttered “This man was certainly going to be the death of me”


	3. His Birthday is Coming

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Decided to add another Chapter for today :)

Cersei walked her usual root into the office on Wednesday morning. Slowly but surely, she mused. With each step she took, her back stiffened and an occasional pain shot up through her neck. She grimaced and brought a hand up to the base of her neck, trying to rub the pain away. She knew it really wouldn’t do anything to help, but the attempt put her mind at ease for a moment. It had already been a long, stressful week for her.   
“And it’s only Wednesday,” she thought to herself. She hissed as another pain shot up through her back. She hadn’t been having any problems with her back and neck for a while, but it was a car accident she had been in at the beginning of the week that threw things out of wack. She was thankful that it hadn’t been worse, she hadn’t broken anything, and all her parts were still together. But she couldn’t say the same for her car. Her poor, poor car. She pictured it; sitting isolated and lonely in the auto shop-dents and dings covering the doors and bumper. It wasn’t a piece of art before the accident, but now her baby just looked pathetic. And she hated taking taxis to work. They always tried to take the long route, attempting to screw her into paying more money than she had to.   
“Dirtballs,” she murmured. They always tried to hit on her too; she grimaced at the thought of it. “Gross,” she shook her head, “so very gross”. Why could she never attract the right type of man? “Maybe one day,” she thought, stepping into the threshold of her office.   
“Hey,” Catelyn said, getting up and giving her a light hug. She didn’t want to hurt her back anymore than it already was. “How’s your back feeling?” she asked, genuine concern lacing her voice. Cersei offered her a small smile and nodded slightly.   
“It’s getting there. I’m still just really stiff and sore,” Catelyn placed a reassuring hand on her arm and gave it a light squeeze. She had been in such excruciating pain at the beginning of the week, that even Mr. Martell had been more civilized to her, laying off the sarcastic and caustic remarks.   
“Is he here yet?” Cersei asked, casting a glance at her boss’ door. Catelyn shook her head and Cersei felt a sigh of relief went through her body. She felt that turning up after her boss was lazy and unprofessional. And plus, he would probably never let her live it down.   
“Not yet, but I have to tell you something before he gets here,” she grabbed Cersei’s hand and pulled her over to her desk.   
“What?” Did something happen to him? Was he okay? She began to worry. Wait, why did she care?   
“His birthday is on Friday,” Catelyn said, and Cersei raised a brow at her.   
“Oh, do we all pitch in and get him something, or what?” Catelyn bit her lip and glanced down. 

“Well, I sort of forgot to tell you this earlier. Usually his assistant takes care of his birthday.” Cersei ’s eyes widened as she looked at Catelyn in surprise.   
“I...I’ve only known him for like two weeks,” she stuttered, “I don’t really know what he likes; or what to get him,” Catelyn smiled slightly and shrugged her shoulders.   
“Just get him a gift card somewhere or something. We’ll all pitch in and give you the money,” Cersei nodded slightly, turning to make her way into his office. She sat down at the chair in front of his desk and glanced around his office, trying to find clues as to what he liked and disliked. But her efforts were to no avail; his walls bared nothing but white paint and there weren’t any pictures placed around the room. Not one. She had never realized how plain this room really was.   
“Here,” she turned around, startled at the sound of his voice as he pushed through the door.   
“What’s this?” she asked, as he thrust a steaming cup into her hand. She hissed as the liquid burned through the paper cup. The scent suddenly wafted through her nose and she shook her head; she should have known.   
“English Tea,” he informed her, slapping his briefcase on the desk, “I wanted you to taste it so you could possibly learn how to make a proper cup before the year is over,” she glanced down at her lap, and then back up at him, her cheeks flushing slightly.   
“I thought I was getting better at it,” she reasoned, swirling the hot liquid around in the cup. He offered her a small smirk and revved up his computer. A moment passed before she heard him speak again.   
“How’s your neck?” She looked up at him, surprised that he was trying to make small talk with her. She was even more shocked that he was actually caring about her well-being. His eyes widened, almost impatiently, as he urged her on.   
“Oh, um,” she started after realizing she hadn’t said anything for a few seconds. Her hand came to rest on the back of her neck subconsciously. “It’s getting better; still slightly stiff, but we all have stiff necks once and a while,” He nodded, most likely in affirmation she reasoned and they became silent again. She knew this conversation was over.   
“Anything on schedule for today?” she asked him, as he glanced down at the paperwork in front of him.   
“I have a meeting with an American publishing company. We’re in conversation about taking my books over to the States, so I’m testing the waters out; seeing how they take to me so to speak,” Cersei nodded, looking up at him. She watched as his eyes flickered back and forth between his papers and his monitor; his fists clenched and flexed ever so slightly. He was nervous, she concluded, noticing that his jaw was clenched- not much, but just enough for her to realize.   
“Is there anything you need me to do?” she asked him, standing up to retrieve her laptop from her computer bag. She bent down to lift it from it’s home. When she turned back to him, she swore she saw his eyes lingering somewhere a little lower than where they should be. She bit her lip lightly and quickly sat back down in her seat, 

making him tear his gaze away from her and back to his computer. He cleared his throat, realizing that he hadn’t answered her question yet.   
“You can just sit there and take notes; you know, the important stuff, dates and sorts,”   
“Okay,” she responded quietly, opening up her calendar on her laptop. She clicked on Friday’s date, stealing a peek up at him. She knew he couldn’t see what she was typing, but knowing that he wasn’t watching her made her feel less pressured. It reassured her that he didn’t know what she was doing. Quickly typing “Mr. Martell’s birthday” into the first empty line, she realized that his birthday was November nineteenth. She smiled slightly, hers was August nineteenth. That was something small they had in common. She flipped the lid shut quickly, realizing that he was making his way around his desk. He stood at the door, and glanced back when he realized she wasn’t following.   
“Are you coming or not?” he asked, a little eagerly as she turned around in her chair.   
“Oh, yeah, sorry,” she mumbled, grabbing her computer and walking out of the door in front of him. She glanced back to ask him a question as they made their way to the conference room and bit her lip to stop herself from smirking before she even got the question out. She was right about what she thought she saw before. He was definitely staring at her ass.   
“Gentlemen,” Oberyn greeted, standing up to shake the men’s hands as Catelyn ushered them into the conference room. Cersei followed his lead, standing up to greet the men as well. “How was your flight?” she heard Oberyn ask. One of the men, Robert, she could see from the embroidered signature on his briefcase, sighed and plopped down into one of the swivel chairs at the conference table.   
“Transatlantic,” Robert mumbled, taking his paperwork out of his briefcase. The other men followed his lead, and Oberyn took his place at the head of the table.   
“Can we get you anything? Water? Tea? Coffee?” he asked, and Robert nodded after some thought.   
“Yes, coffee would be wonderful right now actually,” Oberyn looked towards the other men. “Anyone else?” They all asked for coffee and he glanced back at Cersei .   
“Could you get these men some coffee? And bring me some tea while you’re at it,” she smiled slightly at him before quickly making her way out of the room and into the kitchen. As the coffee brewed, she bent down to retrieve the tea from the cupboard and let out a small yelp when she tried to stand back up.   
“Shit,” she mumbled, her hand coming to rest on her lower back. She gripped the counter’s edge, trying to steady herself before straightening her torso up the whole way. Another pain shot through her back, up to her neck and she whimpered, biting her neck to hold the tears that were brimming at the rims of her eyes. She took a deep, shaky breath to collect herself while pouring the brewed coffee into four Styrofoam cups. She wanted to cry, the pain was so excruciating, but she couldn’t allow herself to show weakness, that just wasn’t in her nature. She prepared his tea, hoping that she made it to his liking this time. She grabbed two of the coffee cups, and made her way back into the conference room, trying to appear as normal as possible. But how normal can you really look when it feels like someone is stabbing you in the back with ten knives? She set the coffee cups down in front of the men, trying not to bend as much as she could, before she looked over at Mr. Martell. Right away, he could tell something was wrong with her. He furrowed his brow at her and she shook her head slightly, she didn’t want to bring it up here.   
“This is lukewarm,” Robert mumbled and glanced up expectantly at Cersei . She bit her lip, embarrassed at her snafu, and reached out for the cup in his hand.   
“I’m sorry,” she apologized, taking the coffee from the other man as well. His must have been like that, too.   
“This is lukewarm,” Cersei mumbled, mocking him as she made her way to the kitchen once more. She poured the spoiled coffee into the sink and poured more from the pot into their cups. She emptied the other cups as well, pouring fresh coffee into them. Steam was rising from each cup as she made her way back to the conference room. She set them in front of the men again and turned to retrieve the other cups. When she reached the kitchen once more, she gripped onto the counter for dear life. Another pain shot through her and she bit her lip, hoping that it would subside soon. She grabbed the remaining cups of coffee, heading back again.   
“Here you are,” she said politely, and before she could escape the confines of the room to get Mr. Martell’s tea, she heard Robert call out for her one more time.   
“You know, I actually shouldn’t be having caffeine. I have to fly back tonight. I’ll take tea instead,” Cersei sighed, trying not to appear annoyed, taking the cup back from him for a second time.   
“Make your own damn tea,” she sighed, brewing it, before re-heating Mr. Martell’s. It would definitely be cold by now. All of this walking and bending was making her back feel even worse. She would be icing and heating it when she got home, that was for sure. She returned to the room with the two cups of tea. Just as she was about to set the tea down in front of Robert, her back and neck muscles spasmed, and suddenly the warm liquid was no longer in the cups, it was on Robert’s lap. She whimpered at the pain before realizing what she had done and she froze in her spot.   
“Oh my God, I’m so sorry,” she apologized, setting the other tea down on the table so that wouldn’t end up on his lap either. “I didn’t mean-,”   
“You did this on purpose!” he shouted, springing back from his chair to observe the damage that had been done. “You stupid girl! Don’t you know how to do anything?! You ruined my slacks!” Cersei covered her mouth with her hand and shook her head vehemently.   
“I didn’t! It just slipped, I’m so sorry,” he grabbed a napkin from the table and blotted his pants the best he could.   
“Sorry doesn’t cut it! You should be fired! You’re incompetent! God, I should have known, only real women know how to make a good cup of coffee,” he shouted, and Cersei felt tears rush to her eyes for the second time that day.   
“Alright, I think that’s enough,” Cersei looked over and saw her boss standing from his chair. “That’s no way to talk to a woman,” he said, and she watched his chest heave up and down. His breaths were more shallow than usual, she noticed. “I don’t think this is going to work out. Thank you for flying over here anyway,” she watched as Robert’s eyes widened.   
“That’s it? You’re not going to publish with us?! After we flew all the way over here?” Oberyn shook his head, walking over to the door and opening it for them.   
“That’s what I just said. Now, enjoy your flight home,” the men gathered their things quickly before making their way to the door. With one last glance at Cersei , Robert walked through the threshold.   
“Oh, and Robert,” he called. Robert turned around to face him, “I don’t think you’d recognize a real woman even if she was standing right in front of your face,” Robert’s face paled as he whipped back around, heading for the exit door. Cersei bit her lip to stop a smile from spreading across her face before pushing herself past him, excusing herself to the ladies room.   
“Come in,” she heard from inside his office, after she had knocked lightly. It had been about an hour since the meeting had ended abruptly. She opened the door and shut it quickly behind her.   
“I uh, brought you the tea you never got to finish,” he looked up at her and offered her a reassuring smile. She set it down in front of him and noticed that he was shutting down his computer. “Are you leaving?” she asked, and he nodded.   
“Yeah, I have an appointment I have to go to,” she watched as he packed his papers into his briefcase before picking up his tea to take a sip.   
“I just wanted to apologize for what happened earlier,” she blurted out after a moment of silence. He glanced up at her and saw that she was really upset about this.   
“It’s not your fault,” he told her, trying to assure her. She rubbed her arm, but shook her head back.   
“I lost you your business,” she told him, looking up into his eyes for the first time since she entered the room.   
“I don’t think I would have worked with them anyway. They weren’t giving me the best deal,” he reasoned, picking his coat up from the rack in the corner of the room before throwing his scarf around his neck. He picked up his tea again and took another swig. She nodded back at him, hoping that he was being truthful. She still felt guilty, though.   
“Go home, rest your back,” he told her, making his way towards the door. “I’ll see you tomorrow,” he made his way through the threshold before turning back to look at her.   
“Oh, and Cersei ,” she turned to look at him and saw a brief smile cross his face, “you are getting better at making tea,” and with that, he sauntered out of the office, leaving Cersei alone in his office, her cheeks suddenly flushing a new crimson shade. 

Cersei walked out to Catelyns’s desk and Catelyn offered her a consoling smile. She had heard about what happened earlier.   
“I was thinking about throwing a surprise party for Mr. Martell on Friday. It’s better than a gift card, right?” Catelyn smiled and nodded.   
“I’ll send a meeting out to the staff. I’ll call his family as well,” she told Cersei .   
“I’ll call the country club down the road. He’s a member there, isn’t he?” Catelyn nodded and leafed through her contact book before finding the number for the club.   
“Great. I’ll call them tonight,” she said, grabbing her coat from the rack in the corner of the office. “Maybe this will make him crack a smile,” she hollered to Catelyn before walking out the office door.   
“If you’re there, love, I’m sure he’ll crack more than one,” she glanced at the door that Cersei had just walked out of.   
“I’m sure he will.”


	4. Birthday Party

Oberyn stared up at his reflection in the mirror. At first glance, he didn’t look any older than he did yesterday; but as he leaned closer to his mirrored face, he could see the aging process slowly unfolding. He furrowed his brow at himself and noticed the lines across his forehead looked deeper, more pronounced. He brought his hands to his cheeks, pushing them up towards his eyes.   
“Maybe if I hold them there long enough, they’ll stay up,” He noticed the crinkles around his eyes and ran his index finger over them lightly.   
“Oh God, not crows feet,” he silently begged as he saw the outlines of new lines beginning to form. “I’ll look like a bloody woman!” He thought in horror. He shook his head, trying to clear those thoughts from his head. Bending down over the sink, he splashed cool water onto his face, before leaning against the counter.   
“Get a hold of yourself, Oberyn,” he scolded, bringing a paper towel to his face to wipe away the water droplets around his cheeks. “You’re only forty.” A deep sigh left his lungs and he bit his lip.   
Oh God. He was forty.   
He ran a hand through his hair, observing the front, sides, and the back. No grays yet.   
“At least I still have my hair,” he mused, smoothing down his black tufts.   
He didn’t really know where all these insecurities were coming from. He had always been a fairly confident man. Maybe it was because he had entered into a new decade of his life. It didn’t seem so bad when you told someone that you were thirty-something, but when you said forty-something, you were suddenly cast into the category of “old”, something he wasn’t quite ready for yet.   
Oberyn turned and watched as another man made his way into the bathroom.   
“Hi, boss,” the man smiled at him. Oberyn could place the face, but his name was slipping his mind. It began with an “Ren”. Rene? Renly? Renly! That was it.   
“Hello,Renly,” Oberyn responded, giving him a quick nod. He came to stand next to Oberyn at the sink, scrubbing his hands before wiping them clean with a paper towel. “It’s getting chilly out there,” Renly offered, looking at Oberyn through the reflection in the mirror. Oberyn could see that the young man was trying. He had to admit, he wasn’t the world’s most personable boss, so the fact that Renly was even talking to him surprised him. 

“Yeah,” he offered in response, “it is quite nippy.” Renly smiled back before heading towards the door.   
“Oh,” he stopped at the threshold, turning around to look at his boss once more. “Happy birthday, Mr. Martell,” and with that, the door closed. He didn’t even wait for a response.   
“Yes,” Oberyn muttered sarcastically at his reflection, “Happy birthday, indeed.”   
Cersei watched as her boss swiveled around in his chair, his phone attached to his ear. He had been in a sour mood all day. She had tried to joke with him when she brought his tea to him earlier, but he just avoided her jab and kept his eyes on her work. He usually teased back, but today was different. Maybe he was upset that she had played it off like a normal day, not offering any knowledge that it was his birthday. But she wanted him to be surprised for tonight. It was more fun when people were surprised.   
His brow furrowed at something the person on the other line was saying, before rolling his eyes.   
“No, we’re not doing that,” he told them firmly, before bringing his pen up to his mouth. “Because it just wouldn’t work,” he answered nonchalantly, chewing on the end of his pen.   
“Well, I don’t care if it’s what the corporate office wants; I’m not authorizing it,” Cersei held back a smirk. He sure was stubborn. “Right,” he mumbled, the pen still attached to his mouth, “We’ll talk more sometime next week.” And with that, he put the phone back into its cradle, before running a hand through his hair.   
“Everything alright?” she asked quietly. She could see that he was tired. He must not have been getting much sleep lately.   
“Fantastic,” he muttered sarcastically, before grabbing his briefcase from under the desk.   
“It’s Friday,” she offered, hoping that would lighten his mood just a bit. He shuffled his papers around his desk before looking up at her.   
“You’re observant today,” he told her, throwing the papers into his filing cabinet. She rolled her eyes before glancing at her watch. 5:30.   
“Remember you have that meeting with sales associates at 6:30 at the country club tonight.” That was a lie. That was her plot to get him to his surprise party.   
“Are you coming?” He asked, and she was taken aback. She wasn’t expecting that question.   
“No,” she told him, before biting her lip. That was also a lie. She would be there, “but I can be there if you need me,” she offered, glancing up at his face.   
“Oh, no,” he shook his head, turning his computer monitor off, “I was just wondering,” he grabbed his jacket from the back of the chair, sliding it onto his body and then took his briefcase. 

“I’m going to head home first,” he told her, making his way towards the door. Cersei followed him out of his office as he shut and locked the door.   
“I’ll see you on Monday,” he told her, picking up his briefcase from the floor.   
“Have a good weekend, Mr. Martell,” He gave her a small smile, slightly pausing before turning on his heels and heading out of the office.   
Cersei turned and smiled at Catelyn before giving her thumbs up. Everything was working out as planned. He had no idea.   
Cersei stood by a high cocktail table, a glass of white wine tucked tightly in her hand. She usually didn’t drink in public, but tonight she indulges herself, she deserved it. She laughed at something Catelyn was telling her before bringing a hand up to rake through her long curls. She had changed from her usual blouse and pencil skirt into a black cocktail dress. She released her long, brown curls from her tight bun and let them cascade down her shoulders. She looked around the room. Mostly everyone from the office was in attendance, and Catelyn had sent the notice out to Oberyn’s family. They wrote back, saying that they would be there. Cersei had no idea if they were here yet or not. She reached out to touch Catelyn’s arm.   
“Thank you for picking me up. I really couldn’t have sat in another dirty cab,” Catelyn laughed shook her head.   
“No big deal, dear. Also, are you sure you don’t want to come and stay with me for a while? Until you find another apartment?” Cersei’s whole apartment complex had been evicted yesterday. Apparently, the foundation was close to crumbling, so they sent the tenants to the Hilton down the road. No car and no home. This just wasn’t her week, was it?   
“Oh, no. It’s fine,” Cersei waved her hand, “I shouldn’t be in there too long. But thank you for the offer.” Catelyn squeezed her hand before something behind Cersei caught her eye.   
“That woman standing behind you,” Cersei turned around to see an elderly woman, dressed in a cream colored dress standing across the room from her. “That’s Mr. Martell’s mum,” Cersei studied the woman. She was very attractive for her age. And also very fit, she noticed. Her hair was a light blonde; her smile was soft as she talked to a few men beside her.   
“She’s very beautiful,” she voiced to Catelyn and Catelyn nodded.   
“And those are his brothers,” she started, pointing to the men standing next to her. “The one to the right is the older brother, Mors. And the one on the left is his other brother, Doran,” Cersei ran the names through her mind: Mors, Doran; Mors, Doran. She didn’t want to forget them. She didn’t think she’d forget their faces, however; they looked like Oberyn.   
She checked her watch and saw that it was 6:25. He would be there any minute. 

“Surprise!” She heard everyone shout and she looked up just in time to see the expression on his face change from his usual, hardened expression, to a softer, lighter mask. His eyes raked across the crowd, noticing everyone from the office before they landed on his family.   
“Mom,” she heard him greet her, before going over to give her a tight hug. She watched as he patted each of his brother’s shoulders, his face becoming animated as he carried on a conversation with them. Everyone had turned back to their own conversation, but Cersei’s gaze was still fixed on him. It was refreshing to see him like this: so happy, so light, so jovial. She felt a nudge on her shoulder, taking her out of her trance, before she turned around to see Catelyn giving her a knowing smile. She had been caught staring at him. Her cheeks flushed, a bright crimson shade before she could mutter a word.   
“I’m going to get a drink,” she told Catelyn and turned without waiting for an answer before making her way over to the bar.   
“This was certainly a surprise,” she heard a few minutes later, and she turned around coming face to face with her boss. Catelyn smiled at him and leaned against the table.   
“Well, we thought we’d do something a little different this year,” she told him, swirling her glass of wine around in her glass. He nodded, his eyes doing a quick scan of the room, watching as everyone was engaged in comfortable conversation.   
“Was this your idea?” he asked, taking a swig of his Scotch. She smiled slightly and shook her head back and forth. “No?” he questioned, “Then who?” She turned her head slightly, nodding to the direction of where she wanted him to look. He followed her gaze before his eyes landed on his assistant. His stubborn, argumentative, little assistant.   
“Cersei ?” He asked Catelyn, making sure he wasn’t looking at the wrong person. She nodded in affirmation, watching her boss’ face soften slightly. He paused faintly, his mind waging an internal battle with itself until one side won out.   
“Excuse me,” he muttered, setting his glass down on the table, before turning and making his way to where Cersei was standing.   
“Hello, ladies,” he greeted, coming up behind Cersei , interrupting the conversation she was having with an officemate, Mary.   
“Do you mind if I steal her for a second, Mary?” he asked, cocking his head towards Cersei . She smiled and shook her head.   
“We’ll finish later,” she told Cersei, giving her arm a squeeze before turning her attention elsewhere. Without a word, Oberyn rested his hand against her lower back, pushing her slightly forward, guiding them to a less crowded area of the room. Cersei tensed suddenly at the contact, but then eased up after a second. They had never really made physical contact like that; a few brush of the fingers here or there when she would hand him things. But never direct, deliberate contact. His hand made her skin feel warm where he was touching, and just 

when she started to get used to it, he removed it.   
“That was rude,” she said, turning to face him, nodding her head towards Mary, “She was in the middle of a story,” Oberyn rolled his eyes.   
“She lives with seven cats. How interesting can she be?” Cersei felt the urge to reach out and smack him, but she resisted. She didn’t think it was really appropriate to slap your boss, no matter how much she wanted to at times.   
“You did all this?” Oberyn asked her, and he saw her glance down slightly, almost as if she was embarrassed before looking back up at him.   
“That depends,” she started, placing her hands on her hips, “Are you mad?” she asked, looking up, trying to gauge a reaction from him. He was slightly taken aback. He wasn’t expecting that.   
“No, why would I be mad?” he asked, almost offended. Why would she think he would be mad?   
“Then yes,” she smiled, “I did. But Catelyn helped as well.” Oberyn nodded, but remained quiet.   
“Were you surprised?” she asked him after a slight pause. She saw him smile before answering her question.   
“I was,” he affirmed, scanning the crowd behind her, “This was the last thing I was expecting, to be honest,” She was happy with that answer. She was happy to feel a moment of control over him; like she had the upper hand.   
“Would you like to meet my mother?” He asked suddenly, his eyes traveling back to her face. She no longer had the upper hand, she thought. That question had totally caught her off guard. Her eyes betrayed the confidence her body was emanating. She faltered for a second, her mouth agape, before realizing that she hadn’t answered him yet.   
“Oh, yeah,” she smiled, “that would be great.” He smiled back at her, obviously pleased with her answer. Why he was so pleased, neither one of them knew.   
“Come on,” he urged her, directing her to the area where he saw his mother standing. The woman looked up and smiled in their direction as she saw the pair approaching.   
“Hello, dear,” Oberyn’s mom called as he came to stand beside her, his arm immediately wrapping tightly around her shoulder. It was obvious to her that Oberyn was close with his family; something Cersei hadn’t expected from him.   
“Mom,” Oberyn began, casting a glance in Cersei ’s direction, “this is Cersei Lannister, my assistant,” His Mom offered her a smile and her hand and Cersei took it gratefully. “Cersei , this is my mom,” he finished, a proud aura in his voice, a smile gracing his lips.   
“Lovely to meet you, dear, Mrs Martell,” the older woman greeted, gripping Cersei ’s hand tightly in her own. Her hands were soft; that was the first thing Cersei realized about this woman. She wondered if Oberyn had the same soft hands.   
“The pleasure’s all mine,” she assured, smiling brightly at her.   
“I’m going to go get a drink,” Oberyn interrupted them, “Would you girls like anything?” They both declined and he turned and left them alone.   
“So, you’re Oberyn’s new assistant,” she started as soon as Oberyn was out of sight and Cersei offered her a small smile.   
“I am,” she confirmed, watching as Oberyn disappeared from sight.   
“Is he treating you well?” Cersei laughed, but ultimately nodded.   
“We’ve had our moments, that’s for sure,” she started, glancing down at the floor, “but I think we’ve come to tolerate each other,” Mrs. Martell offered her a smile and reached out to touch her arm.   
“He takes a while to get used to,” the woman paused, standing on her tiptoes to look over the crowd of people. “Let me tell you something about Oberyn,” she started, playing with the rings on her fingers.   
“One of his biggest fears in life is being a failure. His work is really the only thing he has besides his family. His greatest fear, I would say, would be disappointing his father. That’s why he works so hard. That’s why the little things irk him so much. It’s why he gets so stressed and why he may seem like such an arse sometimes. He wants everything to be perfect. He just wants to make his father proud of him,” Cersei smiled at the older woman. Hearing her say this stuff about Oberyn made Cersei feel like she had a better understanding of her boss they’re the same she never want to disappoint her father and she always wants to make her father proud.  
“Where is his father?” Cersei asked, glancing around the room for a chance of maybe spotting him. Mrs.Martell gave her a sad smile and twisted the gold band around her ring finger.   
“He’s no longer with us,” she told Cersei with a small sigh, “he died when Oberyn was just eight,” Cersei’s heart suddenly dropped in her chest. Oh my God.   
“I’m so sorry. I didn’t know,” Cersei reasoned, giving the older woman a reassuring squeeze on the arm.   
“I know, dear. Oberyn doesn’t really talk about his personal life much. I just thought you should know that he isn’t the mean person he may come off to be,” Cersei smiled sadly before noticing Oberyn making his way back to them, drink in hand.   
“Did you ladies have a nice chat?” he asked, taking a sip from his glass, his eyes shifting from his Momto his assistant.   
“Yes,” mrs. martell started, giving Cersei ’s hand a reassuring squeeze. “Lovely.” 

Cersei leaned her elbows against the railing of the outside balcony, taking a deep breath of the cold London air.   
“You’re missing the party,” she heard from behind her and she turned around to see him leaning against the doorframe, his glass in hand.   
“So are you,” she reasoned, as he straightened up, making his way towards her. He leaned against the railing next to her, swirling his glass of Brandy around.   
“You must be freezing,” he commented, looking over at her, a thin shawl the only thing covering her arms; her bare legs exposed to the bitter London air.   
“Not really. I think the alcohol is keeping me warm,” she reasoned, tightening the shawl a little more around her shoulders. He chuckled, and allowed his eyes to roam her body for a few seconds before raising them to meet her own.   
“You look, different,” he observed, and Cersei let out a little giggle. She could tell he was slightly buzzed.   
“Why? I don’t look like a stuffy, office maid?” She asked, turning to face him, bringing one hand to rest on her waist. He cocked his head to the side, taking her in once more.   
“No,” he started, “your hair is long,” he noticed, and he almost reached out to run his fingertips through the curled ends of it, but he held back. He wouldn’t allow himself to do that.   
“I can see your knees,” he continued. Cersei giggled, kicking her leg out to stare down at her knee; usually her pencil skirts went slightly past them. “You’re wearing more makeup, too,” He observed. She was wearing a darker shade of red lipstick than usual. And her eyes were so green,as they pierced into his. Cersei bit her lip slightly. Men usually didn’t notice things like that. But he was a man that spoke his mind. A swift silence came over them as he turned to her, mirroring her position, and raised an eyebrow at him.   
“How old do you think I am?” he asked suddenly, taking a sip of his Brandy. She shook her head, looking into his eyes.   
“That’s a trick question,” she accused him, crossing her arms across her chest. “If I say you’re older than you really are, you’ll get offended and fire me,” Oberyn raised his hands up in the air and shook his head.   
“You’ve survived as my assistant for this long; I’m not going to fire you over some stupid number,” he told her, urging her on. She bit her lip and glanced up at his face. She took in his features for a moment before drawing her best guess.   
“Forty,” And when he gave her a small smile, she knew she was right.   
“You knew,” he started, “Mom must’ve told you,” she gasped and shook her head at him.   
“I knew nothing,” she promised, bringing her other hand to her waist.   
“Cersei,” she heard her name being called, and she turned to the doorway for the second time that night. It was Catelyn. “I’m going to head home. I just wanted you to know in case you still needed a ride,” she watched as Cersei fought with herself internally. She didn’t want to leave, Catelyn saw. She wanted to stay.   
“Oh, um, well I was going to stay a little longer if that’s okay,” Catelyn smiled.   
“Go right ahead. See you two on Monday,” she turned and left the two of them alone again. Silence overcame them once again, until Cersei remembered something.   
“Oh! Stay right here,” she ordered him, before shuffling back into the club. A moment later she returned, a gift bag in hand. He raised a brow at her before she lifted the bag in front of his face.   
“Happy birthday, Mr. Martell,” she said, as took he took the bag from hand. He eyed it suspiciously before removing the tissue paper from the bag. When he looked inside, he let out a belly laugh and she delighted in the sound of it. She watched as he removed three bottles of salad dressing and four boxes of English tea and observed them each, shaking his head.   
“So now if I ever forget dressing again, you can always have a spare bottle. And whenever I screw up a cup of tea, I’ll have a bunch of bags to practice on,” he chuckled again and put the contents back in the bag.   
“You really are a cheeky, little thing, aren’t you?” he asked her, and she nodded her head in agreement.   
“I thought it was appropriate,” she reasoned, shrugging her shoulders nonchalantly.   
“Oberyn!” He turned to the threshold, seeing his brothers standing in the doorway. “We’re going to head out. Mom’s coming with us,” he nodded, and turned back to Cersei .   
“I’m going to say goodbye to my mom, I’ll be right back,” When he turned to walk out from the balcony, he realized that Cersei was right behind him.   
“I want to say bye, too,” she reasoned, pushing past him and into the warm room.   
After they bid farewell to Mrs . Martell, Oberyn watched as Cersei stifled a yawn, and brought a hand up to rest against the back of her neck. She was hurting, he could tell.   
“Are you ready to go home?” he asked. She checked her watch. It was pretty late.   
“I think it’d be best,” she answered, pulling out her cell phone to dial a taxi. He realized what she was doing and reached out a hand, laying it on her phone. 

“I’ll take you home,” he told her. And before she could answer, he was off, grabbing his coat before returning to her.   
“You’ve had alcohol tonight,” she told him, “you shouldn’t be driving,” but she was already tying her scarf around her neck.   
“Details,” he murmured, grabbing his gift bag. They bid goodbye to the remaining guests, and he lead her out to his car, his hand placed gently on the small of her back once again.   
“So where’s home?” he asked, pulling out of the parking lot slowly. She bit her lip, playing with the edge of her coat. She was embarrassed to admit it to him.   
“Well, actually the Hilton on Green Street,” Oberyn glanced at her out of the corner of his eye. She explained the eviction circumstance and he nodded slightly. No other words were spoken of it.   
“Your mom is lovely, Mr. Martell,” she told him after comfortable silence, smiling at the image of the older woman in her head.   
“She’s something,” Oberyn offered, a smile mirroring her own, as he turned the car onto her street. He pulled into the parking lot, putting the car in park as he stopped at the entrance.   
“Thank you for the ride. I’ll see you Monday,” she smiled at him, before unbuckling the seatbelt and exiting his car. She leaned against the open car door and paused for a moment, staring back at him.   
“Happy birthday,” she whispered, before shutting the door, and walking towards the hotel. Something held him back as he began pulling out of the lot. He stopped, rolling down the passenger window and leaned closer, calling for her. When she turned around, he cleared his throat.   
“Thank you,” she smiled, and turned back around quickly, before he could see the blush creeping onto her cheeks.   
He made sure she got into the hotel safely before he pulled away, returning to the comfort of his own home. As he brought his gift bag in and sat it on the counter, he realized that there was a note attached to the bag.   
Mr. Martell, Happy birthday, boss. I think now you’re old enough to learn how to make your own tea. Cersei P.S. You don’t look a day over fifty.   
He let out a light chuckle and shook his head. It was in that moment that he realized something.   
This girl was getting to him.


	5. Chapter 5

Cersei exited the taxi after handing the man his earnings from her.   
“Keep the change,” she would always say, thrusting twenty pounds into his hands and shutting the door as quickly as possible. She didn’t want to sit there longer than she had to. Especially since this man was trying to get her number. She had only engaged in small talk, and the man took it upon himself to think that Cersei was interested in him.   
“Gross,” she muttered to herself, throwing open the building’s door. She greeted the warm air that circulated from the heater, into her body with a sigh of relief. It was one of her favorite feelings to experience. The cold, bitter, London air, suddenly dissipating from her figure as the rush of heat overcame her senses. She unwound the scarf from her neck and tucked it securely into her coat pocket. The bare skin of her neck would never experience the chilling air. Not if she could help it.   
She entered the office, smiling as Catelyn gave her a little wave and pointed to the phone, signaling that she’d be off in a moment. In the meantime, Cersei shrugged off her coat and hung it on the rack next to the door. She smiled at one of her co-workers who waltzed through the door behind her as they placed a hand on her shoulder in greeting. Leaning against the edge of Catelyn’s desk, she picked up a piece of candy from her bowl and plopped it into her mouth. She giggled as Catelyn rolled her eyes and shook her head at something that the person on the other line was saying. It was in that little, insignificant moment that she realized she felt different being at work. She felt happy. Today was the first morning she didn’t wake up and dread going into work. And it was Monday; she hated Mondays! Maybe it was the fact that she and Catelyn had become close over the few weeks she had worked there; Catelyn had become her only real friend since she had moved to London. She looked forward to their lunch breaks, gossiping over new office romances and talking about clothes and shoes. She had missed doing that with someone. She watched as Catelyn placed the phone back on the receiver.   
“That man never stops talking,” she sighed, offering a smile at Cersei .   
“Good morning to you, too,” she responded, plopping another candy into her mouth. “You know,” she started again, picking up another sweet, “you should really hide these from me. I think I’ve gained five pounds since I started working here,” Catelyn laughed and pushed the bowl forward towards Cersei .   
“If anyone can afford to gain a few pounds in this office, it’s you,” Cersei rolled her eyes, but did so as she took another piece.   
“It’s not like I don’t eat or anything. You’ve seen me eat,” she pointed out, placing her hands on her hips..   
“Yeah,” Catelyn nodded, and bit her lip like she was debating on whether or not to continue, “Mr. Martell likes to call it your ‘rabbit food’,” Cersei scoffed, crossing her arms across her chest.   
“Salads are very filling,” she reasoned, before casting a glance over to her boss’ door. “You eat salads too,” she thought to herself, staring at the nameplate on Oberyn’s door, as if she were actually talking to him.   
“So,” Catelyn interrupted her thoughts, and Cersei’s attention was focused back on her. “How was the rest of the party?” Cersei’s brow furrowed in confusion for a millisecond, but she suddenly realized what she was talking about. Mr. Martell’s birthday party.   
“Oh, “ she nodded, thinking back to last Friday night. “It was good. We really didn’t stay much longer after you left,” Catelyn smiled at the way the word “we” rolled effortlessly off her lips.   
“How did you get home?” she asked her. She had driven her there, after all. Cersei glanced down and toed an imaginary circle in the carpet.   
“Mr. Martell took me home,” she said quietly, her eyes never leaving the spot on the ground. There was no reason to be embarrassed, she knew, and yet, she was. “He just didn’t want me to take a taxi home so late at night,” she rationalized, finally making eye contact with Catelyn. “Don’t look at me like that!” she exclaimed when she saw the smirk Catelyn was giving her.   
“So did he take you back to your hotel, or did he take you back and give you a tour of his humble abode?” She wiggled her eyebrows and Cersei let out a little shriek when she realized what Catelyn was implying. She gave her arm a shrug and shook her head in disgust.   
“We don’t even like each other! I did NOT go back to his house. He dropped me off at my hotel, I went inside, and went to sleep. Alone,” she clarified before Catelyn could ask any more questions.   
“Maybe that’s why he’s in such a sour mood today,” she joked, motioning towards his office door. Cersei checked her watch quickly, and looked up at Catelyn.   
“He’s here?” she asked, startled at the time. He usually doesn’t arrive until nine o’clock. It was only eight-thirty. He had never been here this early since she started working there.   
“He was here when I arrived. I’ve only seen him once and then he shut himself back in there. He didn’t even say a word when he walked out here,” Cersei bit her lip and glanced at his door, debating whether or not she should take a chance and go in, or if she were better off out here.   
“Catelyn!” His voice boomed over the intercom on her phone and she jumped, startled by the volume of his voice. “Is Cersei here yet?” she glanced up at Cersei and saw her biting her lip slightly, suddenly nervous about the tone of his voice. She hated when he was in one of his moods. Why did he have to ask for her?   
“Yes, she just got here,” Catelyn told him, hoping that he hadn’t heard them talking for the past ten minutes. 

“Send her in here,” he said, before the line went dead. Well, there was no way she couldn’t go in there now, Cersei told herself. Catelyn looked up at her and offered her an encouraging smile.   
“The king wishes an audience with you,” Cersei giggled slightly at that, her tense shoulders relaxing somewhat.   
“I am but a mere court jester,” Cersei teased, making her way towards his office door, “What would his majesty want from a commoner like me?” Catelyn laughed aloud as Cersei pushed her way into her boss’ office.   
He sat at his computer; his glasses perched on the edge of his nose, as he squinted his eyes, staring at something on the monitor. He didn’t even notice as she entered into the room so she went over and sat in the chair across from his desk.   
“Why are you here so early?” she asked him, drumming her fingers on the edge of his desk. His eyes quickly shifted from his monitor to her moving fingers. She could tell that the pitter-patter noise they were making annoyed him, but she continued on anyway.   
“Why are you so nosy?” he shot back, as he searched through one of his desk drawers. She rolled her eyes, biting her lip so she wouldn’t say anything else that would egg him on.   
“Here,” he said, handing her a piece of paper from his desk. She took it wordlessly, glancing over it quickly.   
“What is this?” she asked, scanning over the items that were written down before looking up at him.   
“I need you to go get everything that’s written on that list,” she glanced down at it with a silent sigh. There were at least ten items on that list, all from different stores, she noticed. It would take her almost the whole day to pick all these items up. She was even more confused about why he had asked her to do it; but she had learned to not ask questions when dealing with Mr. Martell.   
“Mr. Martell,” she started, realizing that she couldn’t get to these stores on foot. “I still don’t have a car, and these stores are a little far away,” she told him, and when he didn’t say anything, she continued on.   
“I can’t get a taxi because they wouldn’t be able to wait for me at every store,” She watched as he wordlessly searched through his briefcase, probably digging out the number for a cab service for her anyway. So when she watched a set of keys glide across the desk and land in front of her, she was thoroughly confused.   
“What’s this?” she asked, allowing the ring to slide down her finger, the keys landing in the palm of her hand. He looked at her and shrugged as if it was obvious.   
“Take my car.” The words drifted through one ear and out the other. She gripped the keys a little tighter in her hand, realizing that he wasn’t joking.   
“You’re letting me take your car?” she asked, raising an eyebrow at him. He leaned back in his chair, bringing the end of his pen up to his mouth, chewing on it slightly.   
“Should I be worried that you’re going to crash it like you did your own car?” She sat up in her chair, crossing 

her arms across her chest in defiance.   
“That wasn’t my fault! The guy behind me rear-ended me! And then I ran into the lamppost. I am an excellent driver,” she informed him, staring directly into his eyes.   
“So that’s why your car is sitting in a repair shop with dents and scrapes all over it,” he reasoned, swiveling back and forth in his chair, cocking his head to the side. The smirk that was playing on his mouth annoyed her the most.   
“Ugh!” she groaned, standing up, making her way to the door before he could say anything else.   
“I’m just stating facts, here,” he said, throwing his hands up in the air in mock surrender. She turned to face him, her hand already resting on the doorknob.   
“You know, you shouldn’t really be making me angry when I’m the one who’s going to be driving your car around the whole afternoon,” she told him, dangling his keys from her index finger.   
“You’re the one who’s going to be unemployed if you do crash it,” she narrowed her eyes at him, before opening the door.   
“You wouldn’t,” she said, and she was gone; the door closing behind her.   
She stood in the parking lot, glancing around to see if she recognized Oberyn’s car from the other night when he took her home. When she didn’t see it, she pressed the key fob’s unlock button and listened as she heard the beeping coming from behind her. She turned around and saw a sleek black Rolls Royce calling for her.   
“Of course,” she mumbled, opening the car door nervously. He would decide to bring his Rolls today.   
Cersei threw the shopping bags on the floor, letting out a deep breath as she leaned against the office door. Sighing heavily, she brought her wrist up to her eyes, checking the watch that adorned it. Three o’clock. She had been shopping for six hours. Six hours. And she didn’t even know what it was for. Why in the world had he asked her to go shopping for him? What could he possibly need a coffee machine, fuzzy socks, and a children’s pop up book for? Maybe there was a side of him she didn’t know about?   
“You’re back,” she heard Catelyn exclaim, and she shot her a look. She picked the bags back up and made her way over to her desk.   
“Why in the world did he ask me to go get these things?!” she asked, holding up the bags in front of her face. Catelyn shrugged.   
“They’re probably just things he didn’t have time to go pick up himself,” she said, opening one of the bags to peer inside.   
“A home manicure spa?” she asked, holding up the box for Catelyn to see. She giggled slightly and shook her head. 

“I don’t know. Maybe he just likes to have well manicured nails,” Cersei laughed aloud, shaking her head, the image of her boss filing his nails popping into her head.   
“That’s very disturbing to me,” she told Catelyn, before dragging her bags over his door and pushing her way in. She set the bags on his desk before collapsing into the chair.   
“I’m done,” she sighed, grabbing his attention from his work. He glanced over at the bags and gave her a small smile.   
“It only took you six hours,” he muttered, setting the bags on the floor beside him. She huffed, and threw the list back onto his desk.   
“Yeah, well, you had a lot of things on that list,” she exclaimed, raising an eyebrow at him. “What were they all for anyway?” she asked brazenly, crossing her legs and leaning back in her chair. It was his turn to raise his eyebrows, and he turned to face her completely.   
“Don’t you think that’s a little personal?” he asked, placing his elbows on the desk, fiddling with the pen between his fingers. She picked her at her fingernail, before glancing up at him. Nervous habit.   
“Not really,” she shrugged, leaning forward and resting her elbow on her knee, “You asked me to go get them for you. Don’t I have a right to know what I was doing?” He stared blankly at her before returning to his work; ultimately ignoring her question.   
“Fine,” she shrugged her shoulders nonchalantly, “I don’t think there’s a problem with men who wear fuzzy socks and want to have well-manicured fingers.” His eyes shot up to meet hers and she flashed him a sarcastic smile. She knew he would talk now; he would never let her get away with a comment like that.   
“Fine,” he started, giving into her ploy, “these are Christmas gifts for my relatives,” Cersei ’s jaw dropped and she gasped in surprise. She hadn’t expected that.   
“You mean to tell me that I just did your Christmas shopping for you?” He nodded his head in affirmation and she shook her head in disbelief.   
“It’s a win-win situation,” he explained, folding his hands behind his head, leaning back in his chair slightly. She scoffed, clasping her hands over her crossed knee.   
“And why is that?” she asked him, cocking her head to the side.   
“Because you’re a woman; women love shopping. I’m a man; men hate shopping. My Christmas list is finished and you got to go shopping. Win-win,” he explained proudly, giving her a smug smile. She rolled her eyes. This man really had no clue. She wasn’t going to argue with him, so she allowed his comment to slide. She stood up and headed for the door when she realized the conversation was over; but she stopped when she heard his voice calling out to her. 

“Do you plan on stealing my car or are you going to give me back my keys?” she blushed a bit, realizing that his Rolls keys were still tucked in her pocket. She dug them out of her skirt pocket and tossed them back into his open hand. She was halfway out the door when she stopped and turned back around to look at him.   
“Oh, and sorry about the two dents on the door, I didn’t notice I parked too close to a pole. It won’t be that expensive to fix, right?” And with that, she shut the door, his laughter echoing behind her.   
She checked her watch for the fifth time in twenty minutes. It was already six-thirty. She usually leaves the office by five-thirty, but she couldn’t leave until her boss left. And he was still securely locked behind his closed office door. She stared at it, hoping that she could will him out with her thoughts, but it remained shut. Catelyn had already left, and she watched as her co-workers shut their computers off, bidding her farewell. She checked her watch again. Two minutes had gone by since the last time she checked. She was hungry and tired. And all she wanted to do was go home and curl up under her covers. So when she saw him coming out of his door with his briefcase in hand, her heart leapt. He waltzed over to her desk, standing in front of her silently.   
“Are you ready to head out?” she asked, already shutting down her computer before he could answer. He checked his watch, nodding his head in affirmation.   
“I didn’t realize it was this late,” he explained, tossing her an apologetic look, “I’ve just been really busy all day and time got away from me,” she nodded her head silently. She knew the feeling.   
“Are you hungry?” he asked, buttoning the last button of his jacket. She looked up at him, noticing the sincere expression spread across his face.   
“Yeah,” she started, after she realized she hadn’t responded to him, “I am a bit,” he smiled slightly at her as she turned off her desk lamp, making her way over to the coat rack to retrieve hers.   
“Would you like to go grab a bite to eat? It’s late, and we both haven’t eaten so,” she could tell he was struggling, watching as his fingers jingled the car keys in his pocket. She smiled shyly at him, suddenly feeling very flushed.   
“Yeah, sure. That’d be great,” she watched the corners of his mouth turn up slightly and he let out a sigh he’d been holding in.   
“Great,” he said, opening the door for her, allowing her to walk ahead of him. staring at her form from behind. His hand found its way to her lower back as they walked towards his car silently.   
“There’s a little Italian place down the road we could go to,” he told her, putting his car in gear before pulling out of the parking lot. Everyone liked Italian food, right?   
“Okay,” she agreed, staring out the window at the passing cars. Biting her lip, she held back a smile that was about to cross her lips. She didn’t even like him, and yet for some reason, she found herself enjoying the thought of having dinner with him. He came around to help her out of the car and she smiled gratefully at him. They 

walked right in, sitting at a booth in the far corner of the restaurant.   
“This is nice,” Cersei commented, flipping open the menu. She hadn’t been there before; but she did love Italian food. He hummed in agreement, pulling out his glasses from his jacket pocket to look at the menu more clearly. There was something about the way he looked in his glasses. His face had a very sexy appearance without even trying. She liked it. When the waiter came by to ask for their drinks, she was only going to order an ice water, but Oberyn ordered two glasses of White Zinfandel wine. She furrowed her brow at him.   
“How did you know I liked that kind?” she asked him as the waiter poured the wine in front of them.   
“I know everything,” he stated, focusing his eyes back on the menu. She rolled her eyes. Of course he did.   
“What do you usually get here?” she asked, scanning her eyes over the pasta items. She was in the mood for carbs.   
“Not rabbit food,” he mumbled and she lowered her menu, staring at him accusingly.   
“You like salads too,” she shot back.   
“Yeah, but I don’t eat them everyday,” he reasoned. She rolled her eyes; but he had a point.   
“The Fettuccine Alfredo is very good,” he finally answered, “or the Chicken Parm.” She closed her menu. Fettuccine Alfredo it was. After the waiter took their orders, he removed his glasses, and settled them back into his pocket.   
“So,” he started after a period of silence, “What brought you back to London? You must be used to New York by now” She fiddled with the napkin on her lap, straightening out the corners before looking up at him.   
“I just wanted a change of pace. New York was a little too busy for me. It was too hard to get a stable job,” he took a sip of wine from his glass and then shrugged his shoulder.   
“Yeah, but there are other cities in America,” he pointed out, “you could have just went to one of those, right?” She sighed, stealing a piece of bread from the basket in front of her.   
“Yeah, but I wanted a whole new atmosphere. Am I not allowed to go back to my home country?  
Also I heard great things about London, so I decided I’d give it a try” he nodded his head slightly.   
“It’s a great city,” he agreed, a sudden pride consuming him.  
“Except it rains all the time,” she complained, buttering her roll and then putting a piece in her mouth.   
“You’ll get used to it,” he told her, doing the same with his bread. She nodded. She was already getting used to it, really.   
A steady conversation flowed between them before their dinner and she was surprised herself when she realized 

that she was actually enjoying his company. It was probably because she was used to eating dinner alone, so actually having someone to have a conversation with was a nice change; even if it was her egomaniacal, self- centered boss.   
“You know, at first I thought you were this incompetent, annoying woman that didn’t know how to do anything. I mean, you tried to burn my tongue off the first day of work,” she laughed out loud, remembering the way he almost spat his tea out onto his desk. “But you’ve gotten better over the last few weeks”. he concluded, twirling a piece of pasta around on his fork. She laughed aloud, bursting into a fit of giggles as she brought her eyes up to meet his. He reached for his wine glass, his fingers playing with the stem of it before shaking his head slightly.   
“Don’t take this the wrong way,” he began, his eyes focusing on the tablecloth in front of him. She swallowed hard, placing her fork down, suddenly nervous about what he was going to say. His didn’t show any signs of joking anymore.   
“You’re a very beautiful woman, Cersei, those mesmerizing green eyes ” She felt her cheeks instantly flush a dark, crimson shade and she quickly glanced down at the napkin on her lap. That was the last thing she thought would come out of his mouth. She flashed her eyes up at him and realized that she hadn’t said anything in response.   
“Uhm, thank you,” she stuttered, glancing down at the napkin on her lap, her fingers toying with the edges of it. She noticed that her palms were sweating and she wiped them on her napkin.   
“Anything else for you this evening?” she jumped at the waiter’s sudden appearance as he came and stood next to their table.   
“No, no, I think that’ll be all,” she heard Oberyn say and she pushed her half-eaten plates away. She knew that the moment was over.   
The ride to her hotel was silent, the only noise there was, was from the various singers on the radio. It wasn’t uncomfortable, really. The ride to her hotel wasn’t very long, so the silence wasn’t long enough for it to be uncomfortable. She was still replaying his comment to her in her head as he pulled into the hotel parking lot. She glanced over at him, giving him a small smile. She didn’t exit the car right away, the soft voice of Etta James lulling her to stay in her place.   
“Cersei , I was thinking,” his voice snapped her out of her trance and looked over at him, his figure a dark silhouette, his fingers drumming lightly on the steering wheel.   
“You don’t know how long you’ll be living in that hotel, and it must be uncomfortable I can imagine. I hate staying in hotels for just one night,” he chuckled, his fingers coming to grip the steering wheel tighter. “I was wondering if you wanted to come stay with me. Just until you find a new apartment. You said it shouldn’t take you long, right?” His question caught her off guard and she stumbled profusely on her words.   
“Oh, I, I can’t ask you to do something like that,” she told him, shaking her head quickly. “It really shouldn’t take me long, and I wouldn’t want to intrude on you. You see me enough as it is,” she huffed, glancing over to gauge his expression. But it was still serious. He was serious. 

“My house is big enough for two, that’s not a problem,” he said, and she bit her lip nervously. After a few seconds of silence, she felt him place a hand on her arm.   
“Promise me you’ll think about it,” he said, gripping her a little tighter. She couldn’t help but nod her head as she looked up at him.   
“I promise,” she said, before releasing herself from his grasp and stepping out of his car.   
“Goodnight, Mr. Martell,” she bid him farewell, but before she could shut the door, she saw him lean over and smile up at her.   
“Call me Oberyn,” he told her, allowing her to then shut the door, and she watched him speed away. His Rolls quickly disappearing into the night.   
“Goodnight Oberyn,” she whispered into the thin air, testing his name on her lips for the first time.   
She liked the way it felt.


	6. Chapter 6

Cersei sat at her desk, typing the last few lines of her email to a publishing company Oberyn was trying to set up a meeting with. She had a quick flashback to the last meeting he had with another company. That hadn’t ended well; the man had left with hot tea spilled all over his pants. Woops. Thinking of tea, she suddenly realized how empty her stomach felt. It was already past twelve, she noticed, checking her watch; she had usually eaten by now. She glanced over at Catelyn who was pecking away on her keyboard. She was about to call out for her, when her stomach decided to call out itself. Catelyn turned slightly and giggled at her friend’s sheepish expression.  
“You hungry over there?” she asked, and Cersei placed a hand on top of her stomach, willing it not to growl out again. She nodded in response and got up to walk to few feet to Catelyn’s desk.  
“You wanna go out for lunch today?” Cersei asked her, resting her bum slightly up on the edge. Catelyn didn’t respond right away, instead focusing on the last few words she was typing onto the screen, before looking up at Cersei .  
“Sure,” she agreed. “Changing it up a bit sounds good,” Cersei smiled as Catelyn stood, shutting her desk lamp off. Her rumbling stomach would soon be filled.  
“You ready to go?” Catelyn asked after grabbing her purse from underneath her desk, already tying her scarf around her neck; readying herself for the cold air outside.  
“Yeah,” Cersei responded, watching her friend dig for her car keys, “Let me go tell him that we’re leaving,” Cersei said, throwing her head in the direction of her boss’ door. Catelyn waved her hand in her direction, still searching for her keys from the depths of her purse. Cersei made her way over to Oberyn’s door, opening it a crack to peer inside. When she saw him flipping through some paperwork, she stuck her head in, clearing her throat a bit to get his attention. He looked up at the door at the sound, pushing his glasses from the tip of his nose, back to the bridge.  
“Hey,” she greeted, smiling slightly at him, “I’m going to take my hour now. Catelyn and I are going to head out to eat today.” She watched him nod before flipping the top page of his paperwork back, stealing a quick glimpse at the words written there.  
“Would you like anything?” she continued, and he glanced up at her, smiling at the offer.  
“No, I’m okay,” he told her, lifting up a brown bag from underneath his desk. “I brought a sandwich today,” he said, showing her evidence of his packed lunch. She nodded, chewing at her bottom lip slightly, her body lingering in the doorway. 

“Okay, I’ll be back soon,” she told him before shutting the door quietly, excusing himself from his presence. She walked back towards Catelyn, pleased at the sight of her car keys in her hand. They walked the short distance to Catellyn’s car and Cersei slithered into the passenger seat. Rubbing her hands together, she placed them in front of the vent, hoping that the warm air would penetrate them as quickly as possible.  
“It’s like an ice box in this freakin city,” Cersei groaned, her teeth chattering slightly with each word. Catelyn laughed, turning the radio dial up, a soothing song droning as the background noise.  
“It gets worse in December,” Catelyn offered, and Cersei shot her a sideways glance, eyes widening. How could it get any colder than this?  
“You sure know how to cheer someone up,” Cersei mumbled sarcastically and Catelyn reached over to pat her arm.  
“Just stating facts, dear,” she smiled at her and Cersei shivered slightly at the thought of a colder December. It just didn’t seem possible.  
“Do you know when your car will be fixed?” Catelyn asked her, pulling out of the parking lot, heading towards a little café down the road. Cersei shook her head mutely.  
“It’s not going to be,” Cersei told her, busying herself by running a finger along the edge of the door.  
“Why?” Catelyn asked. She had thought that her car was supposed to be ready within the next week.  
“They called me and said that it was worse than they had originally thought. Something was wrong with my brakes; things under the hood were all messed up. I don’t know, I’m not very good with cars, so I don’t know all the technical terms; but it was going to cost more than I had originally planned. It wasn’t worth it to me really,” Catelyn nodded sympathetically.  
The café wasn’t too crowded; they were seated instantly in a small booth by the window. Silence overwhelmed them as they glanced over the menu, Cersei setting hers down first, knowing instantly what she wanted. Catelyn set hers down a few minutes later, and the waiter approached them to take their drink orders.  
Stirring the straw around in her iced tea a bit, Catelyn glanced up at Cersei .  
“So,” she started, smirking slightly at her friend across the table, “you’re moving in with the boss tonight,” Cersei almost choked on her water, a hand coming up to cover her mouth so the liquid wouldn’t spew out onto the table. She swallowed it before shaking her head vehemently at her friend.  
“I am not moving in with him!” she said firmly, hoping that she was making her point clear. Catelyn raised an eyebrow at her, urging her on to explain herself.  
“I’m staying with him for a few days, a week or two at most until I find a new apartment,” she explained, playing with the corner of the paper napkin in front of her. Catelyn took a sip of her tea before continuing the conversation.  
“Why not just stay at the hotel a few more days if you think that’s all it’s going to take to find a new apartment?” 

Cersei sighed inwardly, feeling as if she were suddenly placed on the stand for questioning. She wished she could just plead the fifth.  
“The hotel isn’t really ideal,” she explained, her fingers still fiddling with the napkin, “I don’t think I could handle taking another shower with bugs all in the tub,” she cringed, but continued on, “And taking taxis to work was digging a hole in my wallet,” Catelyn nodded, understanding her points, but she had to call her out on something.  
“You know I offered to take you to work in the mornings,” Catelyn reminded her, and she watched Cersei falter, searching for the right words before she spoke again.  
“It was out of your way, and I felt like it would have been a bother to you. And at the time, I thought I would be getting my car back soon so I thought I could handle a few more days. So when Oberyn offered, it just kind of seemed convenient. Like I said, it shouldn’t be more than a few days,” Catelyn raised her eyebrows again and waited until the waiter set their food down before continuing the conversation.  
“Oberyn?” she asked suddenly, “you’re on a first name basis now?” she watched her friend blush slightly; her cheeks becoming a rosy pink. She didn’t want to admit to Catelyn that he had told her to call him by his first name; apparently, he hadn’t let anyone he worked with call him that.  
“It slipped,” Cersei mumbled, taking a bite out of her Turkey Club. Catelyn nodded, deciding to let the conversation fade into silence. But as she watched a soft smile appear on the corners of her lips, she knew.  
It hadn’t just slipped.  
Cersei sat up straight at her desk, rolling her neck to the side as she felt it stiffen. It had been giving her problems since her accident; sharp pains shooting up every now and then. The feeling of knives being stabbed in her back brought back terrible memories of not just her car accident, but also the plane crash she was in only a few years ago. She hadn’t told anyone at work about the crash, she didn’t feel the need. It wasn’t that big of a deal anyway. They hadn’t been up in the air for more than a few minutes, so the fall wasn’t very far. The impact threw her forward, however, her neck snapping back out of place and she remembered how her back twisted and a shriek was emitted from her lips. She remembered the flash of light and the loud boom that accompanied it. She remembered feeling as if her life was slipping from her body, her world suddenly turning into darkness. She could relive it in great detail; a memory that made shivers run up her spine. Out of the twenty people who were on that small jet, only seven had survived. It was a wonder that she had been one of the lucky few to come out alive.  
A cold hand on her shoulder jerked her out of her thoughts, and she looked up beside her to see whom it belonged to. She smiled slightly when she saw her boss standing over her, a rare warm expression crossing his features.  
“Will you be ready to head out in about five minutes?” He asked her and she looked at the tiny clock in the corner of her computer screen. It was already five thirty-three. Time had escaped her, she realized, but glanced back up at him and nodded. Her unfinished work could wait until tomorrow.  
“Yeah, I just need to clean things up a bit and then I’ll be good to go,” she told him, motioning to the documents spread out on her desk.  
“Okay,” he responded simply, his hand moving from her shoulder down to her shoulder blade quickly, before removing it entirely from her body. It was only when he was tucked back into his office did she allow herself to look down at the goose bumps that appeared on her skin.  
She watched him bustle around the room five minutes later, gathering things into his arms that he needed to take home. He shuffled some askew documents into one single neat pile and placed them at the corner of his desk. Holding onto his briefcase in one hand, he shut his desk lamp off, bidding farewell to his office for another night.  
“Ready,” he stated, gesturing for her to walk out of the door in front of him. When he turned to lock the door, Cersei chanced a glance over at Catelyn and saw her already staring at the pair. Catelyn wiggled her eyebrows up and down suggestively and Cersei shot her a warning look. Catelyn would never let anything go, would she?  
“See you tomorrow, Catelyn,” Oberyn called out, already making his way out of the door and Cersei had to quicken her pace to catch up to him. The door shut before she had a chance to respond.  
Cersei noticed that Oberyn was making his way towards a large SUV rather than his usual town car; her brow furrowed as she opened the door to the passenger side.  
“I didn’t picture you being an SUV man,” she told him as he revved up the engine. He placed a hand on the back of her headrest to look over his shoulder so he could back out of his parking space. His fingertips brushed her hair as he pulled his hand back to the steering wheel. Both pretended not to notice.  
“I wasn’t about to put all of your stuff into the Car,” he explained, weaving his way in and out of traffic. She rolled her eyes. He loved that thing more than life itself, she noticed. Come to think of it though, all of her stuff probably wouldn’t fit into the Car anyway. She had been packed already, the only thing needed to be done was shuttling it down from her room to his car. She looked over at his profile and the realness of the situation suddenly consumed her. She had agreed to stay with a man whom she couldn’t stand; a man who she was most certain, she annoyed the living hell out of. Why had she agreed to it, then? She had given some explanations to Catelyn, but there was something else racking her brain. She just didn’t know what it was.  
“Alright, do you need help bringing anything down?” She heard him ask, only just noticing that they were sitting in the parking lot of the hotel.  
“Uhm, no it’s fine,” she told him, unbuckling her seatbelt. “I’ll just put it on a cart,” he nodded silently as he watched her jump down from his SUV. Why he had asked her to stay with him, he had no idea. But for some reason unbeknownst to him, he was happy that she had agreed. Not that he would ever admit that to her of course.  
He chuckled in amusement when he saw a luggage cart coming towards him; He was about to hop out of his car to help her until he saw a bellhop jogging towards her. Oberyn slid right back into his seat. This is what the bellhop was paid to do, right?  
He pressed a black button above his head and watched as the trunk door rose effortlessly. He could say he helped now, he mused. The bellhop slung her suitcases in one by one and gratefully accepted her tip when he was finished. The black button was pressed again and the door moved in the opposite direction, this time shutting and locking itself. Cersei climbed back into the SUV and huffed slightly.  
“Let’s go,” she said, smiling over at him slightly. With that, he pressed the gas pedal and they went speeding off towards his house.  
She watched him from behind as he struggled with her suitcase, stifling a giggle when he tried to lift it over a concrete step.  
“Jesus, woman. What do you have in here? Rocks?” He shouted back towards her when he finally reached his doorstep. She climbed the few steps ahead of her to reach him and patted his arm.  
“Suck it up tough guy. Show me your muscles,” she teased as he turned around to fetch another suitcase.  
“Here,” he said suddenly, throwing something from his pocket at her and only when she caught it did she realize it was his keys.  
“It’s the one with the red key ring,” he told her, and she fished it out immediately. Fitting the key into a top and bottom lock, she pushed the door open and was met with a rush of warm air. But the sight that greeted her was more captivating than the climate.  
The spiral staircase was the first thing she noticed, leading up to the second floor that seemed to only be a mystery hiding behind the banister. The marble floor was sturdy underneath her feet, her presence being announced by the heel of her shoe with each step she took. The chandelier that hung above her head was made of crystal, she could tell. Elegant in every sense. The walls were painted stark white; a few portraits hanging around here and there were the only things that covered them. She had expected that he lived in a nice house. Nothing this nice, however.  
The door shut behind her and she turned around to see him moving her luggage from the threshold into the foyer.  
“Home sweet home,” she heard him say, coming to stand beside her by the staircase. She nodded her head and glanced up at the chandelier again.  
“You didn’t tell me you lived in Westminster Abbey,” she joked, and a laugh emitted from his lips; a faint echo of it getting lost in the high ceilings.  
“Hardly,” he said, looking back at her. Suddenly she felt somewhat unnerved. She had never been in a situation like this with him. Alone, with no one to disturb them.  
“You want me to show you your room?” he asked her, gesturing to the staircase. She went over to grab one of her suitcases, but his hand on her arm stopped her.  
“I’ve got it,” he told her, picking up one by the handle to drag up the staircase. She thanked her lucky stars he stopped her; she didn’t think her neck would have appreciated the added pressure. She followed him up the staircase until he came to the second wooden door on the right side.  
“This is it,” he stated, and jogged back downstairs to retrieve the rest of her belongings. This room was warm; a definite contrast to the sterile environment in the foyer. The walls were painted a chocolate brown. The covers on the bed were white; silk from what she could tell. The floor was wooden and a fireplace was set up in the corner of the room. It was homey. She heard him coming back up the stairs and place two more bags down in front of her. He smiled at her before turning and walking into a door across the hall; what she thought to be as his bedroom. She shut the door before grabbing a t-shirt and a pair of sweatpants from one of her suitcases. She quickly stripped from her usual blouse and pencil skirt into the more comfortable lounge clothes and stepped out of her heels. She threw on a pair of socks before opening the door once more. His door was still shut and she chewed at her bottom lip trying to decide what to do next. She decided to take the trek back down the hall and climb back down the steps. He didn’t tell her anything about not exploring, right?  
She walked through the foyer, a sight that she didn’t think she’d ever get over seeing before making her way down a single hallway. She was met with a kitchen; a beautiful kitchen at that. Marble countertops and brass stools took up the focus of the room. The light fixtures and wooden table were nothing to snarl at though. She peered into the next room before tip-toeing in slightly. Her cotton socks leaving behind no trace that she had been anywhere near the kitchen.  
This must have been the family room. Black, plush leather couches were circled around the room, a glass coffee table placed in the center of the room. The TV was hung on the wall, large enough for anyone to see, no matter where they were sitting. The fireplace, which was turned on, gave the room a certain glow. But it was something that was on the mantle above the fireplace that caught her eye. She made her way over to it and picked it up from its resting place.  
It was a picture frame. Inside the frame was the photo of a young boy and an older man kneeling above him; the man’s hand clasped tightly onto the boys shoulder. The boys’ smile lit up the picture, bringing color to the black and white still frame. She brought a finger up to trace the boys upturned lips. Their faces bared a striking resemblance.  
“I can see you’ve been exploring,” she heard his voice calls from behind her and she placed the photo back onto the mantel instantly. She blushed slightly, thankful for the dimness of the room so he wouldn’t notice. He came to stand next to her, and it was then that she noticed he had also changed. A white t-shirt and black sweatpants now covering his form. A drink in one hand and his other hand lost in his pocket, he stared at the picture she was holding just seconds ago. A moment of silence passed before she cleared her throat to speak up.  
“This must be your father,” she stated, glancing up at him to gauge his reaction. He nodded once and took in a deep sigh. Maybe she was wrong for bringing this up.  
“Yeah, that’s him,” was all he offered before taking a swig of his drink. She watched as his eyes turned cold, his demeanor switching from relaxed to defensive in an instant. She turned to offer him her condolences but he had already vanished from her side. The only thing she saw was the Doors shutting behind him as he made his way onto what she came to believe was a patio.  
Just when she thought he was opening up to her a bit, he had shut himself back in. She sighed inwardly to herself, she’d give him five minutes before she would go find him.  
The Door swung open, revealing her silhouette in the lights against the contrast of the dark night. She saw him sitting on a loveseat, a portable heater placed in front of him, drowning out the cold London air. A puff of smoke billowed up from where he was sitting, dissipating into the night before being followed by its twin. She made her way over to him and stood at the side of his armrest watching as he inhaled another puff of nicotine. She hated when someone smoked near her.  
“I didn’t know you smoked,” she told him, the first words spoken from either of them. He looked up at her quickly before exhaling his drag.  
“Does it bother you?” he asked after a slight pause, tapping the end of the cigarette against the ashtray, little specks of fire gliding down to rest on the concrete. She shrugged her shoulders and shook her head mutely.  
“It’s your house,” she offered before moving to awkwardly sit on the armrest. When he saw what she was doing, he moved over slightly, making room for her on the seat next to him. His body heat was instantly welcomed when she sat down.  
They sat in silence for a few moments. She picked at a fingernail that had been bothering her and he continued to take silent drags of his cigarette.  
“Oberyn,” she started, bringing him out of his daze. It was the first time she had addressed him so indirectly like that since he told her she was allowed.  
“I'm really sorry about your father,I made a joke about your father once” she began again, fiddling with the ring on her finger out of nervousness, trying to summon up her courage. But he held up a hand in response, stopping her from uttering any more words.  
“You didn’t know,” he said, blankly, staring out at the vision of his covered up swimming pool; which she imagined in the summer was a sight to be seen.  
“Yeah, but it was still rude of me,” she argued, and when his voice rose slightly at her, it startled her.  
“Enough,” he stated clearly, stubbing his cigarette out into the ashtray. “It’s okay,” he said a little calmer this time, his eyes however, still revealing the hurt she had seen inside his family room. She saw him instantly shut down before her, his eyes casting a blank stare out across his yard. She knew that when it came to his father, the issue was a touchy subject. He never liked to speak about it. His mother’s words from his party echoed through her mind. All he wants to do is make his father proud. He isn’t the mean man he sometimes appears to be. She wondered why he had never wanted to speak of his father. Maybe the hurt was too painful. Maybe he didn’t want people to know he was vulnerable. Maybe if she let him into her life, he would open up to her. She brought a leg underneath her, suddenly prepared to allow him into her world for a few moments.  
“I was born originally born in London,” she started and she watched his gaze move from his yard down to his lap.  
“I’m not going to tell you the year, because a woman never reveals her age.” That earned her a chuckle, and she suddenly felt more at ease. They both did.  
“I have 2 brothers named Tyrion and Jaime who I miss dearly,” his eyes came up to meet hers for a split second. He knew the importance of family.  
“My parents names are Joanna and Tywin,” she faltered, trying to decide whether or not to tell him everything; but while she was being honest, she had to let it out.  
“My Mother died when I was little. My brothers and I thought it was the end of the world because we really love our mother.” His eyes never left her face; the soft glow of the moon touched her cheeks lightly, emitting a healthy glow from her cheeks. Even through the sorrow of her story, she looked radiant.  
“I‘m always dreaming about my mother she always wanted me to learn how to sing and dance as much as my father. they want different paths for me apart from my twin brother; I feel like My father always favors my brother more than me even though I'm the one trying the hardest in school and everything just to impress him and so that’s what i did i learn to dance and sing when i was young and over time I learned to love it. I wanted to be something more but if that’s what my only living parent’s want me to be then so be it, I wanted to be a lawyer or own a business I'm sure mother’s more supportive than my father but unfortunately she’s not around when we’re growing up, chuckling at the naïve dream she once had as a child.I miss my mother terribly  
“A little bit of dancing was the only thing that helped me get through it.” Her features lit up instantly, a distant memory suddenly invading her mind. She paused, reliving the moments.  
As i was saying i learned to love it and once dream to teach children how to dance but my father never supported me on something that I want she explained suddenly, and he watched her eyes inhibit a certain sadness. He wanted to reach out and touch the hand that was tracing one of the throw pillows on the couch, but he resisted the urge.  
“So my dream ended there,” she sighed,  
“I ended up going to New York University for college. Graduated with a degree in Communications. I had a few jobs here and there, but nothing really stuck. The economy in the United States is horrendous,” she sighed, rolling her eyes at the thought of the rising debt in that country.  
“I needed to get away and go back here,” she shrugged her shoulders and looked him in the eye for the first time.  
“And here I am,” she smiled slightly, hoping that he hadn’t tuned her out while she was rambling on.  
He didn’t offer anything in reply, just staring mutely at her face; her green eyes were reflecting back into his. The emotion that passed through them was something she hadn’t felt before and she looked down before it consumed her completely. She glanced at her watch, finding an excuse to excuse herself from this conversation.  
“I’m going to head upstairs,” she told him, removing her bent leg from underneath her; but when she went to stand up, she felt his hand tug her back into place.  
“Thank you,” he whispered, so mute she could barely hear him, “for telling me that.” She waited for the punch line, but smiled inwardly when she realized there wouldn’t be one. His face showed nothing but sincerity.  
She leaned down slowly and pressed her lips against his cheek; the stubble from his five o’clock shadow brushing gently against her mouth. It wasn’t something she had planned on doing. It wasn’t something she regretted doing. But it was something that made her heart pitter-patter quicker against her chest. She pulled back and lifted her eyes to meet his, a soft light suddenly twinkling in the corners of his.  
“Thank you,” she whispered, glancing down at their connected hands, “for everything.” With that, she pulled her hand away before shuffling into past the Doors and into the kitchen.  
As she lay awake in bed that night, she pulled the silk sheets up to her chin and nestled her head softly in the pillow beneath her. She touched a finger to her lips before smiling to herself at a sudden realization.  
Her lips smelled like smoke. And for the first time in her life, she didn't care

**Author's Note:**

> Thank You for Reading!! Please let me know if you like it so i can continue and know that someone's reading my fic :)


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